


Beautiful Beasts

by cannibalisticshadows



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Skinwalkers, Body Horror, F/M, Gore, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Psychological Horror, slightly OOC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-26 15:37:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12061965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cannibalisticshadows/pseuds/cannibalisticshadows
Summary: There's something following Gold...





	1. Gone to The Dogs

He only left Storybrooke when an important out-of-town case required his presence. No one batted an eye when he left town for a whole month without telling a soul. “No one”, being anyone other than the Mayor or her wee son, Henry.

This trip was no different for Gold. The Porcus case had taken an unexpected turn, and Gold’s client, Mr. Wolf, had called Gold up the night before and howled on and on about how the Porcus brothers had wrongfully set Wolf up to take a suggestive photo to back their side of the case up. Gold knew this was bad; if the Porcus brothers took their “evidence” to their attorney, Wolf had a fat chance of ever seeing the day light beyond his prison walls ever again.  


Determined to prove his client was innocent, Gold packed up a small suitcase, popped into his Cadillac, and left town without another word. 

The problem lied not within the Porcus vs. Wolf case, but within the trip itself. Gold had been to Boston plenty of times. Countless times! But he had never encountered anything quite like what happened on that October evening before.

Gold was driving down the deep forest road as the sun started to set. No one else shared the road with the attorney, so he enjoyed a little cruising while tapping a gold-ringed finger against the steering wheel. A soft classical song was ringing through Gold’s sterio system, light and quiet. The hum of his car familiar and stoic. He drove under the speed limit.

All was normal, all was sound. Gold had been down this road enough times that the drive required little more than the energy needed to work on autopilot. 

It was a miracle he even saw anything at all.

Gold blinked as a foreign figure appeared up on the road, hunched and walking slowly. Hitchhikers were not typical on these roads, but not nonexistent. The Scotsman never dared to pick up one, so he let his car pass the vagrant without a second glance.

An hour later, Gold was put into a cautious mood when he heard a low, groaning whistle in the distance. It was loud enough to be heard over his music and long enough to be thought over. Gold knitted his brows together, turning the radio off. Just as he was about to turn it back on, he heard the whistle again for the second time.

“What the…?” he mumbled to himself, bewildered. He was not given another chance to wonder, however, because something caught his eye in his rearview mirror.

There was a dog chasing after him. 

It was smaller than a wolf with bright russet and sandy fur. The dog galloped like some drunken horse, jumping in a zigzag on long skinny legs. It did not… look normal. It just, was not normal. Something in Gold’s mind screamed to drive away as fast as his car could take him, but another, a more logical part of him, said to just ignore it. The gooseflesh on his arms said otherwise. Something was very wrong about this "dog".

Weird.

Gold rolled his eyes and put more pressure on the gas. The dog was probably rabid; confused, hungry, and stupid enough to chase a moving car. He smiled a bit in contempt as he saw the dog fall behind, vanishing into the young night’s darkness.

Yet the dog had not left.

The attorney’s eyes nearly bulged out of his skull when the very same mangy mutt came barreling back, faster and faster yet. Gold twisted his mouth in concern, a hair or two rising on the back of his neck. He urged the Cadillac to go faster, determining to get rid of his four-legged pursuer. 

The dog went faster.

Gold went faster.

The dog went faster.

Gold went faster.

The dog went faster.

Gold reached the speed limit, and his good mood. The dog ran in the most sickening manner, faster than any greyhound he had ever seen. At this point, the animal was right beside his car, in perfect sync with his speed.

_**Enough!!!**_ , Gold thought, jaw muscled clenched. This dog was not normal. He needed to get rid of it. Now.

When they were beginning to reach a curve in the road, around a cliff where the metal road barrier was broken from crashes, Gold slammed on the brakes right at the turn.

The dog had not expected this, clearly, and went careening over the cliff like a flying monkey.  
Gold sat in his car for a few moments. He did nothing but clench the wheel. The radio was off. His heart hammered against his sternum, loud in his ears. 

_**What in Hell’s name was that?**_ He wondered, terrified by the encounter if he was being honest. That dog… that thing… With shaking hands, Gold shook his head and sped off into the night.

~BB BB BB BB BB BB BB~

Gold didn’t go to sleep until the wee hours of the morning.

He arrived at his hotel at ten sharp. The man was bone-dead tired, yet every nerve in his body was on fire. Not even completely conscious, Gold wandered into the hotel, checked in, and locked himself away in his room. The bed looked too comfy, and he was more than overjoyed to strip down and slide beneath the covers, where he lay motionless in shock.

_Am I going mad? Did all that really just happen?_

Gold did not move until the alarm went off, an hour after he fell into a restless sleep. He got up, showered, dressed, made himself a cup of coffee… and decided that what he “saw” last night was nothing more than a hallucination. Yes, yes that was it! Gold chuckled darkly, shaking his head as he discarded his used styrofoam cup in the rubbish bin. He was tired last night, had not eaten anything besides a tea biscuit that morning with a cuppa, and driving alone at night in the dark deep woods can do funny things to people. People like Gold, who was perfectly sane and normal. 

Alien dogs did not exist. 

Gold was not schizophrenic. 

Sighing in relief at this realization, Gold took his cane and his business satchel and left his room to go conduct business.

There was nothing else to it. 

Right?

~BB BB BB BB BB BB BB~

Humbert Doyle Wolf was a construction contractor with a hapless life. He was an older gentleman, older than Gold, with silvery gray hair and big teeth. The man wheezed often and had a nasty barking cough. Gold didn’t know if the cough was because of Wolf’s COPD or a common cold. Either way, the attorney swiped a bottle of hand sanitizer from the librarian’s desk during their first recess and kept it on his person.

They met in the public library, where they conversed in a private meeting room Gold reserved for their personal use.

“How can we prove this is a lie?” Wolf rasped, shaking his head in disbelief. “Even I would believe this!”

Gold glared at the photo. The Porcus brothers, or someone they hired, had to have taken this photo. It showed Wolf standing over one of the Porcus brothers, who looked terrified as if he was getting eaten! Wolf looked like he was growling in rage, but Gold knew Wolf was in a mid-cough. The Porcus brothers were setting Wolf up.  


Three years ago, the Porcus brothers all went to Wolf to have homes built. Two of the three brothers were idiots; they demanded Wolf to building their homes a certain way, even though Wolf said their building ideas were unsafe and unethical. The two brothers didn’t listen, and as Wolf said, were injured in their “perfect” homes. Hence, the two brothers went squealing crying to the eldest and richest Porcus brother, the only one with a bit of brain, and pointed all the blame on Wolf, saying he was a malicious old bastard. 

Poor Wolf. Oh well, Gold’s job was to prove him innocent, anyway.

Gold sighed and set aside some papers, pulling off his reading glasses. “Mr. Wolf, hope is not lost. Bare with me, but we will get through this. Let’s take another recess for lunch and come back later. I’m going to make a few calls and look over some more paperwork.”

Wolf nodded and arose with Gold, and both men exited the private room to go their separate ways.

Ten minutes later, and two business calls taken care of, Gold decided to have a leisure walk around the library. It was a beautiful library, home to hundreds of books for all interests. School children, families, students, and business people alike all came here, it seemed. 

Gold was scanning the title spines down the biology aisle when someone decided to join him. 

He jerked in surprise to find a young woman making her way toward him. Without giving her another glance, he stepped aside to let her pass. Perhaps she getting a book where he was standing? That must be why she was headed toward him. Either way, it had nothing to do with Gold personally. Pretty little things like her never had business with old beasts like Gold.

Not that he was noticing she was pretty or anything.

The woman was petite, shorter than him by a few inches even though she wore black pumps. She was barely a woman, so young! She had long brunette hair with streaks of red in the right light, curtaining around her shoulders in bouncy curls. Wide blue eyes shifted upward to meet his.

And by God, were they blue! Nearly inhumanly blue, even! Gold took a step back, feeling a wave of déjà vu.

The girl said nothing, but stood directly in front of him. She tilted her head. He narrowed his eyes. She batted her long black lashes. He sneered. A breathtakingly glorious blush bloomed across her pale cheeks. He gulped.

“Hi.”

Was she talking to him? Does she want something behind him? Is she lost and assumes he knows some directions? Could she be a law student with a serious question for a seasoned attorney? Was she mentally handicapped? 

“Hello.”

She did not respond back, but let a blindingly bright smile grow on her face as he had told her she was the most beautiful creature in all of existence. And Lord, were her teeth white!

She said nothing as she just smiled at Gold. He settled on the theory that the girl was mental. Clearly she was confused.

“Can I help you, dearie?”

Gold got no response again. She just tilted her head, blue eyes keen and seemingly intelligent. The young thing then took a step closer, and in turn Gold step backward. His back nudges the shelf.

“Can I help you?” he repeats in a harsher tone.

Still, she says nothing, and steps closer. Gold is about to step to the side, though he wanted to know what a girl like this wants with a man like him. She puts a hand on his chest to prevent him from leaving. She leans up on her toes, against him.

What she says next stops his heart.

“ _I want to lick your face_.” 

Gold froze.

The girl then proceeds to lick his chin, let that slippery pink muscle of hers trace his jaw, side of his face, and up to his ear, where she suckled his earlobe like a nursing kitten.

Blood roared in his ears.

She suddenly backs away and smiles at him, looking as sane and as lovely as any other young woman who hadn’t a worry in the world. 

Gold, panting and aroused and confused and anxious, watches her turn and skip away on long pale legs, her yellow sundress flaring around her thighs. 

Why did he only notice then that the girl had a painfully noticeable limp?


	2. Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have lost my smut-writing virginity.
> 
> You're welcome.

Gold and Wolf finished their negotiating ten minutes before the library’s closing time. It was half past six, cold and damp outside, and Gold was dealing with his smarting ankle. He did not feel up to attending a diner worth his shiny penny, but ordering something as ghastly as pizza or McDonald’s was out of the question. So, hungry and annoyed with everything that so much as breathed, the Scottish attorney went to order take-out at a semi-adequate Chinese restaurant. 

He was waiting for his order outside, glaring daggers at those who dared to come within a foot of him. It smelled like city, he noted with distain, tapping a finger against the golden handle of his black cane. Cities, in Gold’s opinion, were human pig pins. Disgusting. 

Someone nudged his shoulder. Gold felt his upper lip curl into a sneer, and he coldly turned his head toward the person trying to gain his attention. It was a younger man, one who was tall, broad, and dashing as any knight in shining armor. It was the type of man who that exquisite, deranged filly who _licked Gold’s face_ should be hanging off the arm of. The thought made Gold even crosser. 

“What do you want, dearie?” he snapped.

The man glared back, puffing out his chest as if to size the elder up. “Go near Belle again and you’ll be sorry, three legs.” 

Three legs? _Three legs!?_ Gold saw red for a moment and grasped the shaft of his cane defensively, and seriously contemplated hitting this son of a bitch with his “third leg”. However, the older man paused and lowered his cane as he went over the other’s words. Belle. Who was Belle? Could this “Belle” possibly be that bizarre filly he met at the library?

“If you think I’m shagging your girl, lad, she’s obviously much better off with someone who’s not ridiculously possessive as you are.”

The young man growled at that. Actually growled. Gold blinked as the low, animalistic sound rumbled from the other’s throat. Animalistic being the key word.

“Stay away from Belle! She’s mine!”

“Well, I’m certainly not stopping you,” Gold hissed darkly, voice dripping in sarcasm. 

The taller male growled again, showing large, abnormally sharp teeth, before he turned and ran like a madman across the road, making car slam on brakes and blare their horns at him. Like a run away stray, the man vanished into an alleyway.

Gold remained in his pissy mood for the rest of the night.

~BB BB BB BB BB BB BB~

He didn’t come back to the hotel room until late that evening. He was exhausted, wrathful, and cold.

His taxi driver was some boy, young and chirpy and everything that Gold found irritating, and got them lost about four different times before the Scotsman lost his last nerve, and verbally pulverized the young taxi driver with every bit of pent-up emotion Gold had required since he left Storybrooke. From there, Gold walked a whole block to the nearest bus stop, where he missed it just as he arrived. He then had to wait a whole twenty minutes for the next bus, and had to sit beside an overly-talkative woman named Ariel and her screeching newborn Melody (Gold only remembered this because he had to sit through her constant chatter. He also remembered the names of her entire godforsaken family, blood-wise and in-laws). After the painful bus ride, Gold had to walk another block to his hotel, but he had to wait in the lobby for half an hour because some idiot guard let a naked madman wielding a knife into the hotel, and no one was allowed to go to their rooms or leave until the authorities caught the criminal.

Finally, though, Gold was back in his own room. Oh, how he wished for his tempur-pedic in that moment! 

With a sigh, he sat on the bed and tucked into his greasy, now-cold food. He grimaced with each bite.

When he had forced himself to eat at least half of his food, Gold put the leftovers away and stripped down into his suit pants and dress top, unbuttoning each with lethargy. 

Half way through, someone knocks on Gold’s door.

Without thinking who it might be, or why, he gritted his teeth and gathered his remaining energy to march to the door, throw it open, and assault the idiot who couldn’t read the “Do Not Disturb” sign—

“Hi.”

Gold froze just as he prepared to yell, as every bit of anger drained away to leave him pale. At his doorstep, dressed in nothing but a yellow sun dress that showed off those lovely cream-white shoulders, stood the girl with those unbelievably blue eyes. 

“Uh—“ What was Gold suppose to say? Sorry, that he wasn't interested in crazy? Maybe she wasn't. Maybe she was just dared to lick him by a friend or something. He didn’t know her. But… maybe he knew her boyfriend. “Is your name Belle, by chance?”

“Oh—! Why, yes, sir, it is!” She answered brightly, eyebrows rising in surprise and a small “o” forming on those pretty rose-petal lips of hers. Before she can speak again, Gold goes on to ask:

“Your man confronted me earlier, dearie. Quite inappropriately, I might add.”

She “I don’t… have a man.”

“Well, he certainly seemed to consider you his.” 

Belle (finally, Gold had a name for the girl) pursed her lips. “Gaston seems to consider quite a bit to be his,” she said quietly, looking down at his sock-feet with unhappy eyes and a frown. 

No. No, no, Belle’s suppose to be all… silly and fun, like a filly like her should. Gold felt a stab of guilt in his chest, for whatever reason, and suddenly desired to put that sickeningly sweet smile back on her face. He sighs and opens the door more, coming to stand before her and not loom to the side.

“What is it you want, sweetheart?”

At the pet name, Belle looked up and blushed that pretty little blush of hers. She did not loose that doleful expression, though. Shaking her head, Belle steps away and winces as if she’s hurt. The girl turns to leave—

“Wait,” he says, holding a hand up. “Why don’t you come inside? You’ve come here for something. What is it?”

Belle finally meets his gaze. “You.”

“I… I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t beg, please, let me do that,” she said, approaching him with a curious shyness. She reached out for his hand and held it. 

“I-“ Had Gold fallen asleep? Was this a dream? Was he having a stroke? Had he died and for whatever reason gone to heaven? If there was a yes to any one of those, Gold never wanted to come back to.

Belle raised his hand and put it on her left breast. “I see you all the time… At the library… at this hotel… you come to Boston some times, for business…” she tightens her hold on him, on her breast. “I want you. Please. Even if I never see you again, let me stay with you for tonight. I’ll do whatever you want—“

“Belle, sweetheart, I don’t have any cash on me—“

“I don’t want your money,” she says firmly, staring back at him with such longing, that Gold wondered if it was mirrored back from his own.

“You are very young.”

“Not as young as you think.”

He scoffs, barely noticing that he was already stepping backwards, leading the young woman inside. The door was shut behind her. “Are you at least legal?”

“I’m twenty-four.”

“And I’m forty-five, sweetheart. Twenty-one years your senior.”

“I don’t care.”

“Do you even know what you’re asking for?”

Belle removed his hand from her warm, deliciously soft breast to put her hands on his shoulders. “I’m asking you to fuck me.”

Gold snapped. 

He grasped Belle’s waist and roughly backed her up against the door, slamming his mouth upon hers in a greedy kiss. They both tensed and held onto the other like clay molding together. She tasted like a drug, addicting and wonderful and left him wanting for more and more. His teeth and hers clashed as they attacked the other’s mouth, snorting and groaning as their hands found the other. Her hands tugged at his graying hair desperately as her sharp little nails dug into his scalp. Gold sighed and moved his kisses to her jaw, trailing down to her neck, where he reached up to tug at Belle’s dress. It came off easily, pooling to the ground.

Belle wore a beige strapless sports bra and white cotton panties. Completely functional and modest—nothing to get too worked up about. And it turned Gold on harder than his ex-wife’s thong on their honeymoon. 

He kneaded her shoulders, bringing his mouth back to hers. She moaned into his mouth as he nibbled her lips, and more still as his tongue slipped into her drooling, licking orifice. Somehow his hands traveled lower and lower, one hand staying to massage her modest-sized breasts while the other worked its way down to her waist, hips, and tummy. Her stomach, curved so slightly, so femininely, twitched under his hand. 

When he reached the waistband of her knickers, she moans in approval and licked the side of his mouth. Encouraged, Gold slipped his fingers inside.

“Oh, _fuck_ , sweetheart,” he gasped against her neck, sucking love marks there with as much enthusiasm as a man desperate for air. “You’re soaking wet!”

Belle did not answer, just mewled and bucked against his callused hand. “Gods, you really _do_ want this,” he commented, sliding his fingers through her damp thatch of hair, down to her slippery soft groin. 

“Yes,” she moaned, jerking her hips mindlessly. Having enough with teasing, Gold slid his fingers through her cleft. He pushed a finger inside, twitching when her molten heat engulfed him. Belle threw her head back against the door, quite roughly, crying out all the consent he needed. 

He added two more fingers and his thumb, dropping his knickers to her ankles as he brought this exquisite young creature off with hardly any time. She violently shook against him as she bit his neck, not doing much besides that and burring her face against him.

“More,” she cried, pulling his hand from her dripping groin. She was flushed beautifully, and wobbled on those gloriously long pale legs of hers as she crossed Gold’s room to the bed. There, Belle climbed atop the covers on all fours, spreading her legs in a very obviously, provocative request.

Gold blinked to his senses, not believing his stars as he near ran to her, shucked off his dress shirt, and undid his pants. He kneeled behind her on the bed, staring at her ass for far longer than necessary before raising his gaze to hers. “Are you sure?”

“ _Yes! Please!_ ”

He sighed dreamily, but it was choked into a groan as he grasped himself to push inside her. Gods above, he swore, feeling her quake and twitch, pulling him deeper and deeper. What did he do to deserve this beautiful young woman? Gold thought as he grabbed her hips. If this was indeed just for tonight, he sure as hell was going to enjoy this.

Belle bucked against him, falling forward onto her chest, elbows out behind her. She moaned out, head turned to the side as if to present him her neck, thick russet hair splayed out against the sheets. 

_No, not just enjoy,_ Gold thought, following her down to blanket her back with his torso, pulling out of her and then slamming back in, gasping aloud at her quivering, hot muscles. He was going to _savor_ this.


End file.
